


The One with the Monster and the Toothbrush

by rane_ab



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rane_ab/pseuds/rane_ab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s not much Dom doesn’t know about Billy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One with the Monster and the Toothbrush

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [slashababy 2009](http://slashababy.livejournal.com), for lhazzie. This version is slightly edited/expanded. This is New Zealand fic, so in that sense, AU by now.
> 
> References are made to several interviews/the commentaries, _Doctor Who_ and _Keeping Up Appearances_.

i.

It’s possible our story starts like this:

_It’s a dangerous expedition into the heart of darkness, deceiving the most fearsome beast of all. Unnatural light casts wavering shadows onto the narrow path. It’s a quest best suited to Legolas, with his light feet and sharp eyes, his ability to slip past unnoticed..._

‘Unfortunately, Legolas has buggered off to braid his hair or something, so we had to settle for Orlando,’ Dom interrupts Billy’s commentary.

‘Shh, Dom, you’re ruining the take!’ says Sean in the background, while Billy laughs and aims the camera slightly too far to the left. 

‘Fellows! Comrades! I return to you victorious, today,’ Orlando says, a bit later, trying to gesture and nearly dropping the bottles in his arms. Everyone cheers, either for Orlando’s return or the fact that Billy’s carpet is safe for another few moments. ‘I have rescued from the clutches of the monster no less than – ’ He squints and counts, then counts and squints again. ‘Well. Friends! I have rescued the beer, and bring it here, to you – ’

‘Well done, mate!’ Dom interrupts. ‘And congratulations on a well delivered speech.’

‘Worthy of the immortal Elves, that,’ Billy says.

‘But we haven’t got quite that much time on our hands. Give us the beer, already.’

‘Hear, hear!’ Viggo says, prompting Elijah to jump up, proclaiming, ‘Orders of the King! Share the bounty!’

‘Oh, oh, there’s a bit of exciting cinema, dear spectators,’ Dom says, voice smoothing out. ‘A violent scuffle has broken out. Who’s going to win? Is it Elijah’s elbows? Or Orli’s pout? And, ah, it’s the elbows once again as Orlando takes a beating. Tough luck, Orli. Can we get you anything? Got some band-aids, Bill?’

‘With little prancing ponies on them, Dom.’

‘There you go! That should make it all better.’

‘See what I did there?’ Billy says into the camera and laughs.

Inside, it’s warm, slightly muggy, but they still end up tucked close on the narrow sofas. It’s not the first time, though, and they have a few beers inside of them; they don’t particularly mind at all. Might not even notice it, really. Billy’s not so fussed about his personal space after a few drinks, and he’s a warm presence to Dom’s right, his hair occasionally brushing Dom’s nose when he gets too excited, moving around to make a point. Dom’s feeling comfortable and relaxed, and when they start an argument on whose feet are the hairiest, he deadpans, ‘Aragorn’s, surely.’

Viggo holds his gaze for a few seconds, before saying, ‘I think it’s your turn to fetch the beer, young hobbit,’ prompting encouragement from everyone.

‘I walked right into that one, didn’t I?’ Dom says in his most put-upon voice.

‘Yes, Dom, you did,’ Billy says sagely. Dom hits him with a cushion.

‘No shooting the camera-man!’ Elijah admonishes.

‘You don’t shoot people with a pillow, Elijah. God, you Americans.’

Elijah tries to look offended, and Billy laughs, and then the camera is focused on Dom.

He gives a sweeping bow and begins, ‘Ladies and gentlemen…’

‘I don’t see any gentlemen,’ says Viggo.

‘I’m to talking to the _audience_ ,’ Dom says, but gets drowned out by Sean’s ‘Or any ladies, for that matter.’

‘Maybe if Orlando had brought his wig,’ Elijah muses.

‘… Mmm,’ says Dom, ‘Or if Elijah had brought his dress.’

‘Hey!’ Elijah says. Then, ‘I’d look hot in a dress.’

‘You’d look stunning, Elijah. I’d take you to the ball with me.’

‘The ball?’

‘Focus, people!’ Sean says, waving his hands around for emphasis, or something, just as Dom says, ‘Yeah, my left one,’ and Elijah rolls his eyes before laughing helplessly, falling over on the sofa.

‘Right, focussing on the task at hand.’ Dom pulls at his collar. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Dominic Monaghan. And I am about to undertake the most dangerous journey imaginable to face – ‘ he pauses for the gasps – ‘the Monster of Loch Fridge.’ He pulls his scary face, and then smoothly ducks into the corridor (or would have, if he hadn’t tripped over a pair of shoes), Billy hot on his heels.

‘Stick to the left, Dom, stick to the left! Now, duck, no, lower, yes, that’s it, you’re doing great…’

‘Shh!’ Dom tells Billy, ‘You’re ruining my ninja approach.’ 

Billy turns around and loudly shushes everyone.

Dom makes it to the kitchen with nary an obstacle, brushing the walls and poking his head through the door. He pauses to glare suspiciously at a frying pan, but when it makes no sudden movements, he approaches the fridge on all fours, smooth as a panther. He winces when the fridge opens with a creak. 

‘Ready?’ he mouths at his companions. Elijah gives him the thumbs up and a smile that some lesser Elves might call psychotic. He’s rather bad with alcohol, Elijah is.

He yanks open the door and starts blindly pulling out beer bottles, shouting, ‘Quick! Quick!’ and ‘Oh, no, there it is, guys!’ as they all cast frightened looks at the inside of the fridge.

There, on the third shelf, sits a unicorn. It’s pink, the most brutal of colours. Around its fluffy torso sits a bright red kilt (‘Soaked with the blood of its victims,’ Billy hushed when Dom first clapped eyes on it).

‘Run!’ Dom says, and there’s a scramble back down the hall, possibly involving some vicious shoving, until they’re all panting on the sofas again.

‘That was,’ Dom tells the camera, ‘I don’t mind telling you, that was the scariest moment of my life. Scarier than the Balrog, and he’s a pretty scary bastard, isn’t he, Elijah?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Terrible morning breath, too. Actually, to tell you the truth, Billy hired the monster after, er, after I kept eating the cheese from his fridge.’

‘And my bread.’

‘And his bread.’

‘And the butter, too.’

‘ _And_ his butter. I was hungry.’

‘You’re always hungry! You were eating me out of house and home, Dom. So I imported it. Straight from Scotland. Feels like I’ve got a bit of home with me always, now.’ Billy presses a hand to his chest.

‘Aww! It got a bit out of hand, though, didn’t it, Bills? It’s got a bigger stomach than mine.’

‘… But it doesn’t like cheese. And that’s what matters. I like cheese.’

Dom leans in towards the camera, ‘He’s a bit of a weird one, this Billy Boyd chap. Just a bit…’ and makes a motion with his hand.

‘Are you calling me daft, Dom? I’m hurt. How could you say that? I’ve got a monster in my fridge and I’m not afraid to use it.’

‘Nah, nah, not crazy. You’re a – you’re a perfectly sane person, Billy. By, you know, Scottish norms. Just a bit, how shall I put this, quirky? I like quirky. I like you, Billy,’ Dom says, fluttering his eyelashes.

‘Well, that’s too bad, because I don’t like you, Dom. Not one bit.’

Yeah, possibly that’s how our story starts: with a vicious, vicious lie. If anyone notices, though, it gets lost in the cushion Billy throws at Dom’s head, and then Elijah decides it’s an excellent idea to jump on them, and before they know it, they’re having a wrestling-match-cum-pillow-fight. 

‘Cushion fight,’ Sean says, so Elijah tries his utmost to make him swallow one of the damned cushions.

It gives Viggo the perfect opportunity, come Monday, to give the new, slightly nervous guy from catering a level look and say, in between ‘Dom – he likes bugs and things that crawl’ and ‘There’s Orlando – he likes wigs’: ‘Well, that’s Billy. Be careful around him – he’s one cushion short of a sofa.’

Dom gives the guy his scariest grin and says, ‘I think he likes you,’ after Billy spends an entire week complementing him on his excellent service. ‘Would you like to see our pet snake?’

Unfortunately, this is when Gloria – who has been there since the beginning, and who is short and bloody scary – walks up to take over the stand, and whacks Dom over the head with a pineapple.

Turns out those hurt. Honestly, some people have no sense of humour.

 

ii.

Or maybe it starts like this:

‘Is that a toothbrush in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?’

‘I’ll have you know toothbrushes are useful little things, Dom,’ Billy says, prim, patting his pocket. ‘You can use them for all sorts of sordid things – like rubbing mild stains out of your clothes and cleaning your shoes, various nooks and joints, your nails and maybe even your teeth. Preferably not with the same brush, mind you.’

They’re lounging on the grass, waiting while cameras are being set up and lighting adjusted, and someone’s trying to convince Pete to wear shoes when walking on the rockier bits of underground. It’s bound to take a while.

‘… And we’re back, after that message from our sponsor,’ Dom tells Elijah and Sean, aiming a paper cup at Elijah’s head. Elijah grabs it smoothly, before flipping it high into the air for Sean to catch. ‘Who was it again, Bills? Braun? Sonicare?’

‘This bit of wisdom was offered to you by my gran, actually, Dom.’

‘Mygran? Is that a Scottish brand?’ says Sean, holding still while Elijah tries to shoot the cup off his head and into Billy’s lap by way of a particularly large M&M. Billy catches the sweet, instead, popping it into his mouth with exaggerated pleasure. 

Maybe it’s the sun hitting him just right, or maybe it’s that Dom has become too well-acquainted with his face, but he opens his mouth and says, ‘You look tired, Billy,’ reaching out a hand to wipe the look from Billy’s face with his thumb. Billy catches his pinky and smiles. ‘M fine. Just had a little trouble getting to sleep.’ 

‘Did Dom keep you up all night? I keep telling you, Dominic, work before pleasure!’ Sean says in his best stern British accent, before cracking up. 

‘Sorry, honey, I’ll try and control my urges, next time,’ Dom says, serious, before groping Billy’s arse. Billy yelps, then grabs the paper cup lying abandoned on the ground, and Dom has no idea what he’s planning to do with it, but Billy is creative and Dom is smarter than he looks: he’s running down the hill before Billy even has time to get up. 

It’s surprisingly easy, in the evening, to convince Billy to come to the pub with them. He puts up a token protest about how he should catch up on sleep, and Dom knows that would probably be best for him, but what’s a night out without Billy? He says, ‘Come on, live a little, Billy!’ and blinks when Billy actually says, ‘Fine. But if make-up complains, I’m pointing out it’s your bollocks they should be after.’

It’s a good night. They know they have to be on set by nine the next day – a rare sleep-in – but they end up getting a little pissed, anyway; even Orlando, who has to be there at six. They joke and banter, and are _so happy to be here, guys_ , and Elijah ends up laughing so hard he’s crying even though it really wasn’t that funny, and Dom possibly shoves a finger up Orli’s nose (… that anecdote’s never making it into any interviews).

There’s a moment, somewhere, where Dom forces Billy into a dance, his hands on Billy’s warm back, holding him close, while singing at the top of his voice: ‘Come on, baby, do the toothbrush jive, just like they did in nineteen – so-ho-mething,’ and when Billy tries to extricate himself, with a laugh that leaves Dom no choice but to pull him back, ‘Come on, now, don’t be cruel,’ (‘Wah, wah,’ sings Orlando, and nearly falls off his chair attempting some move only comprehensible to him), ‘Hold on to me.’ He takes a moment to tickle Billy’s sides, before leaning in and whispering (loudly), ‘Come on, boy, let me know, do the toothbrush jive with me, yeah, yeah,’ and makes some kind of obscene movement with his hips that has Elijah wolf-whistling. 

When he looks up, Billy has that smile on his face that Dom can never quite look away from, then laughs a little too loudly; he’s leaning into Dom while trying to remain standing up. Dom thinks they might both be having some kind of laughing fit and leans right back. He feels warm and cosy; looks at Elijah’s tear-stained face, and feels a moment of gratitude to be allowed this, to be here and feel so much like he belongs, like everything is just right with the world. Billy ends up resting his forehead on Dom’s shoulder and Dom folds an arm behind him, hand resting on Billy’s side, and somehow, they manage not to fall over. It might be a bit of a miracle.

That day leads to a preposterous amount of jokes involving toothbrushes, to the point where Sean says, ‘Oh, ‘scuse me, I have to go _brush up_ on my knowledge of Mordor,’ in a snarky voice, and they all crack up.

Dom just catalogues the toothbrushes under his list of Billy Boyd’s Personal Quirks. It’s a pretty long list, made up of things like: his ability to forget his sunglasses everywhere, even when he’s bloody well wearing them; the way his hair can stick up in different degrees, like some sort of strange mood-barometer; the fact that he can fall asleep everywhere, including, once, while sitting in Treebeard; the way he always refuses to look on the dark side of life; the way his smile sometimes seems to literally light up the room (Dom’s considered taking some measurements to prove his theory, but is having some trouble acquiring the right equipment). It’s a long list. Dom’s thinking of writing it down sometime, possibly in Sharpie on Billy’s wall, some day when he’s feeling more suicidal. Maybe next Tuesday. 

The day Dom catches Billy in the bathtub with his toothbrush, he ends up clutching weakly at the doorjamb from laughter. ‘Were you – Did you – With your _toothbrush_?’ And because it’s Dom, it takes him about five seconds to recognise the brush he gave to Billy as a prank gift: it’s pink and green and if you squint, it looks as though there’s a hobbit on the back. 

The bristles are particularly soft, which he can only assume makes it more pleasant to rub them over a nipple. 

If it were anybody else, Dom would turn around and give them some private space, but it’s Billy, and it’s Dom, and so he continues to snicker, ‘Were you thinking about my manly brush, Billy?’ and it occurs to him that he’s never really seen Billy blush. As a matter of fact, he’s pretty certain he’s never seen Billy look that uncomfortable. He’s also pretty certain it shouldn’t be that funny.

‘Get out, Dom,’ Billy says, and the abrupt tone makes Dom’s brain scramble around, which is possibly why his thought of moving his feet backwards translates as his mouth opening up and saying:

‘Aww, come on, Billy. You can tell me. I know it must be hard for you, working alongside someone with the body of a god, but I assure you, I completely understand – ’

He expects Billy to throw the toothbrush at him, for him to call Dom a wanker and threaten revenge. Instead, Billy’s eyes widen then narrow, and his gaze catches on Dom's mouth, just for a moment too long before he ducks his head. When he looks up, his face is calm again, but it’s too late. Dom knows Billy too well (although, Dom thinks, apparently not as well as he thought), and he can’t unsee what he saw. 

This time, he wants to open his mouth, wants to say something, and instead he just stands there, looking at Billy’s increasingly miserable face, until he can’t take it anymore, and his feet step back.

And maybe, maybe this is how the story starts, or maybe it was when Dom’s agent called him to tell him he got the part, or maybe it was when they first met; or, perhaps, it doesn’t matter at all, because it’s not some grand tale of destiny, after all: they’re just two people who happened to meet and become friends, and it’s just Dom, and just Billy, and maybe they won’t even be friends for very long at all.

 

iii.

The next day is downright painful. For someone who spends an absurd amount of time in Dom’s vicinity, Billy’s excellent at avoiding him. Billy is nice and sociable, so no one notices how he spends a few minutes longer talking to them than he usually would: to Elijah, to Sean, to Ian, to Philippa, to Tall Paul, and to about twenty other members of the crew, until all the minutes he’d normally spend with Dom are taken up and accounted for. 

Dom’s never known how to leave well enough alone, though, so when Billy snoozes in a chair between takes, Dom sits next to him and pokes him with a stick. Billy looks at him for a moment, then gives him a bland smile, before saying, ‘D’you know, I really fancy some tea.’ When Billy’s talking to Emily about that summer he spent in catering, layering tiny little bites for hours in a row until he tried layering his toothpaste at home, Dom claps him hard on the shoulder and says, ‘A man dedicated to his craft, you can tell. He wears Pippin’s wig in the shower, too, you know. D’you remember the day you showed up on set in a shower cap, Bills?’ He thinks, for a second, that he sees Billy’s hand shake before he pastes on a smile and says, ‘Nobody noticed for hours!’ and walks away from Dom as soon as he can. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dom knows he should give Billy some time, that he might feel embarrassed and God knows what else. But Billy’s right there, and Dom can see him from his peripheral vision for most of the day, and he can feel the distance between them. His eyes seek Billy out because that’s what they always do, but now, Billy’s not looking back. It feels wrong, and Dom’s never been known for his patience.

They’re getting pancakes around four, because it’s somebody or other’s birthday, and one of them lands on Billy’s head. Dom has excellent aim, if he does say so himself.

His brain, on the other hand, might be a bit faulty, because Billy stops even trying to be discreet about avoiding him for the next three days. Of course, it helps that Dom’s busy entertaining his family. His mum asks about Billy, and he keeps having to make up excuses as to why he’s not around much – busy shooting this or that scene, top secret, can’t really talk about it. He’s so happy to see them again that he can almost forget what’s happening.

But then they move to the next city for an extended trip, and there’s a gap that just won’t leave Dom’s side. Elijah and Sean have long since noticed something’s wrong, but when they try and talk to him, Dom opens his mouth and then snaps it shut again. He might not know the meaning of discretion, but he knows Billy, and it’s not his place to say. He sees Sean stubbornly follow Billy around whenever he has the time for two days. On the third day, he’s unusually quiet, an unhappy slant to his mouth, and doesn’t move from Elijah’s side.

Dom goes out with Elijah, goes out with Orli, with everyone except for Billy, who keeps politely declining because he needs to catch up on sleep. It’s nothing Dom hasn’t done before, but he keeps catching himself, thinking he’s got to remember one thing or another to tell Billy, and then he has to take another drink before he can smile again.

Dom’s tried talking to Billy; he’d spoken in a reasonable voice, said it was all right, and they could still be friends, couldn’t they? And Dom rather thought that new girl from costume liked Billy, and she’s smoking hot, Bills; looks rather bendy, too. Billy had looked up with a tired smile, and a look in his eyes that Dom never wants to see there again.

He’s helping with the Christmas decorations in Sean’s apartment, which somehow involves half-tying Elijah up with the tinsel, when he sees Billy walk in the door, standing right under the mistletoe. Billy laughs when he notices it, and makes a show out of kissing Christine. His eyes shine with mirth and his mouth folds into a smile that has Dom unthinkingly reacting in kind, but there’s a tiredness in the corners of his eyes that Dom can’t miss. His brain must still be in defunct mode, or maybe it’s the eggnog, because before he knows it, he’s standing in front of Billy, taking Christine’s place, and right there, in front of everyone where Billy can’t ignore him, he leans forward and kisses Billy full on the mouth. 

Billy tries to jerk away for a moment, but when Dom grabs his collar, he kisses aggressively back, either revenge or hopes of frightening Dom away. Dom feels Billy’s teeth clash nastily with his lips; feels the tremble of Billy’s body against the back of his fingers, and his chest aches. He knows that as soon as he steps back, they’ll be done for good, and he’ll never see Billy smile at him like that again, and he’ll never meet anyone who makes his laugh like that, and – . And Billy deserves better than this, he does, but Dom’s always been a bit of a selfish prat; so he curls his fingers around Billy’s neck, softens his mouth, and kisses like he means it. 

It takes about a minute for Billy to make a sound in the back of his throat that has Dom finally pulling away to take a look at him. 

Billy’s frowning at him, but he’s also flushed and his pupils are too wide, and Dom knows he’s won. ‘Dom?’

‘Billy Boyd, you are an idiot,’ is all he says to that, and allows it to imply a whole score of things. He gets away with it.

The smile that spreads over Billy’s face later that evening might even be worth it.

 

iv.

Dom doesn’t think he’s got a thing for guys. He’s tried it, because there’s nothing he won’t try, and though he’s had more unpleasant experiences, it didn’t stand out in any way except its boringness. So he might be, just a little bit, in over his head.

He spends exactly one day fretting about it, an unusual occurrence as Dom just isn’t one for regrets, then he stops trying to think about how this will end, because he’s discovered something that’s enough to keep him distracted. Suddenly, he’s allowed to touch Billy. He can put his hands anywhere (half-way decent) and nobody will comment on it, least of all Billy. He discovers this by accident, when he throws an arm around Billy’s waist and Billy doesn’t pull away from Dom’s overly affectionate body language in under two seconds. He might even lean in, just a little. 

And then there’s Billy’s expression – if it was almost always cheerful and bordering on a smile before, there are moments, now, moments when he’s just looking at Dom and he looks positively radiant, and all the equipment Dom needs to prove it is his camera; he takes a picture of Billy, causing him to pull his drunken Pippin face a moment later. Dom obediently clicks again, and Billy laughs. 

If they’d been drifting apart days earlier, they’re now better than ever before, which Dom didn’t even think was possible. Dom sits on the grass, when Billy walks over, drops down, and says ‘Watcha drawing, Dom?’

‘A dalek. Isn’t it obvious?’ he answers, tone mock-offended.

‘Hm,’ Billy says, tilting his head. ‘It looks like a dildo to me.’

Dom laughs, and somehow, somehow, Billy’s hand lands on the small of Dom’s back, and Billy leans just a bit closer, and something warm spreads in Dom’s belly before he answers: ‘Wouldn’t it be great if we could make vibrators like this, and they’d go “Exterminate! Exterminate!” a few minutes after you switch them on? It would be a great prank gift, admit it.’

‘Exterminate?’ says Sean, joining them with a giant mug of hot chocolate in his hand. It’s a ridiculous number of degrees outside, but Sean’s sticking to the Christmas spirit.

‘Yes,’ says Dom. ‘From that film. _The Ex-Terminator_.’

Dom can feel Billy’s laughter all along his side, and he breaks out in a ridiculous grin himself.

‘Oh, that movie,’ says Sean, sceptical, but then Elijah shows up with his own mug and Sean looks smug. It’s obvious he talked Elijah into it. He turns around with a look that says he’s about to try his powers of conviction on Dom and Billy, and Dom gets up, saying ‘Sorry, mate, we’ve got a business plan to work out.’

Elijah rolls his eyes like he thinks they’re going to do something quite different, then gives Dom an encouraging grin, and Dom almost blushes for a second, but then he just grins back.

‘You know,’ says Billy, ‘It might take some time convincing people giving their friends a sex toy is a perfectly acceptable gift.’

‘We’ll just change the rules of society, Billy. People will talk about us for centuries. Dom Monaghan and Billy Boyd, liberators of the people’s sexuality. Has got a bit of a ring to it, hasn’t it?’

‘It think Billy Boyd and Dom Monaghan, liberators of the people’s sexuality would sound even better.’

‘Yeah?’ says Dom, and then Billy kisses the grin off his face. And Dom knows this; knows exactly how to kiss, and takes great delight in finding out how much pressure it takes, which curls of his tongue, to make Billy gasp and moan, and look at him as though are a great many filthy things he’d like to do to Dom. Half of his mind is busy calculating exactly how he might best exploit this, use this power he’s got over Billy, but the other half is kind of stuck on _Billy_ and _in his arms_ and _this is a side of you I never expected to see_. It’s a side of Billy he’s never expected to be _allowed_ to see, this and the way Billy leans into him, comfortable, when it’s just the two of them, and Dom’s never thought of himself as greedy before, but he does now.

He catches himself thinking that he heard somewhere, once, that Scots were loud in bed, and wondering whether that applies to Billy. They’re good together, he and Billy, and Dom’s not a pessimist by any definition, but he can’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop; he’s got an inkling that when that’ll happen, he won’t be wearing any.

 

v.

The first time Dom presses his thigh to Billy’s erection, they’re on their way back from Sean’s Christmas party, full of good food and drink and laughter, and they end up kissing against the side wall of Billy’s place. Dom’s feeling much too lazy to pull away, and when Billy jerks his hips and moans, Dom’s own cock hardens in sympathy. It’s probably the clumsiest fumble of Dom’s life, and they end up giggling more than anything else, Dom’s fingers accidentally ticklish, nose buried in Billy’s collarbone, whispering ‘Gonna whip out your sonic screwdriver, Bills?’ Billy laughs and laughs and laughs and tears are streaming down Dom’s face, which he’s pretty sure is entirely unattractive, but Billy doesn’t seem to care. They end up jerking each other off, almost as an afterthought, and then lie in the garden, looking up at the stars with no energy to get up. Dom thinks it might be the best Christmas he’s ever had.

The next day, two of Billy’s friends arrive, a guy called Martin and one called John, and Dom’s suddenly glad of the reprieve, because. Well. Turns out John’s in a bit of a bad place, and ends up in an argument with Billy; he says something very much not nice, and Dom wants to strangle him when he sees Billy going quiet and closed off. Then he wonders what Billy will look like when he discovers Dom’s maybe a little bit straight.

Then there’s the moment they find out Dom’s more than Billy’s friend, and for the life of him, Dom can’t stop the wide grin from taking over his face, and spends most of the day tackling Billy and putting his hands all over him where everyone can see.

If Christmas was a fairly sedate affair, New Year is another story altogether. They go out, clubbing, and Sean ends up scowling when they get uproariously drunk, and has to herd them all into taxis, muttering about sending them to the AA. ‘Oh, no,’ says Dom, ‘Not the Automobile Association, please!’ and Orlando falls onto Dom’s lap, laughing, and passes out right there.

Dom wakes up in Billy’s bed with no memory of getting there, or indeed, anything that happened sometime after three. When Billy’s head finally pokes out of the covers, his hair is completely flat on one side, and sticks up wildly on the other. He squints, even though the curtains are drawn.

They spend the day sitting on the sofa, watching TV, with Billy falling asleep against Dom’s shoulder every now and again. They’re both sweaty in an unpleasant kind of way, but Dom can’t bring himself to pull away.

They wake up properly somewhere around eight, and when Billy wanders off to have a bath, he leaves Dom with strict orders to prepare dinner. Dom spends five minutes chopping vegetables, hears the sound of the shower running whenever he pauses, and then puts the knife down. 

‘You know,’ says Dom, ‘It’s really rude of you to take the first bath. You should always let guests go first.’

He ends up washing Billy’s hair and Billy washes him all over, and by the time they walk out of the bathroom, Dom’s still not sure which sounds Billy makes in bed, because his mouth was too busy sucking off Dom’s cock. If Dom’s knees are a bit wobbly on their way down the stairs, Billy’s kind enough not to comment on it. 

They eat their stew at the kitchen table, chattering happily until Billy says, ‘What?’ and Dom realises he’s been staring. 

‘Nothing,’ he says, ‘You just look particularly impish while talking about socks, is all.’

Billy raises his eyebrows, and Dom just grins at him; there’s a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he can’t quite put a name to; it glows, much like Billy’s smile.

Elijah calls sometime later, and Billy picks up with ‘Boyd residence, lady of the house speaking,’ because they’d been talking about _Hetty Wainthropp_ and then Patricia when the phone rang.

Elijah doesn’t ask, because he’s a smart guy, but does invite them over for some sort of hangover drinking thing, and Billy says, ‘Hm, maybe,’ and puts a hand on Dom’s knee, slipping it up his thigh.

When he hangs up, Dom puts his feet on the table, and says, dropping his voice, ‘You know, Daise, when I promised to love and honour, I didn’t necessarily mean _every_ Tuesday.’ 

Billy kisses him with a laugh, and Dom pulls him into his lap; something shivers down his spine when Billy gasps against his neck. 

‘Think Nessie just woke up,’ Dom says, looking down, and puts his hand somewhere that’s not decent at all.

‘Feeding time,’ Billy agrees, and when he sniggers, Dom’s hands come up of their own accord to slot them close together, the laughter transmitting to his own chest; and hold on. 

He finds out two things that night: that, yeah, Billy’s small hands really are that deft and certain (particularly useful when pranking Viggo with a few well-placed, rapidly tied knots. ‘Do you remember,’ Dom would say later, in an interview, ‘how _attached_ he was to that sword?’ and Billy would nod, earnest, and butter wouldn’t fucking melt in his mouth, he was so innocent, his Billy was), and he really is loud in bed – or, as the case may be, on the sofa. Dom finds he doesn’t mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Additional notes: 
> 
> 1) Dom’s comment about not needing to love and honour every Tuesday is, to the best of my memory, a direct quote from _Keeping Up Appearances_. 
> 
> 2) It was actually someone on my flist who drew a dalek and said ‘But it looks more like a dildo!’, prompting me to come up with a cunning if flawed plan for prank gifting. Unfortunately, this was several years ago, and I don’t remember who it was, so, um, thank you, flister!
> 
> 3) The song Dom, er, serenades Billy with bears a remarkably strong resemblance to the Rubettes’ _Juke Box Jive_.


End file.
